12 Days of Christmas
by Skiehr'Kaeur
Summary: Valkyrie-centric. A small snippet, usually obscene and weird, utterly pointless. One to represent each Day of Christmas. Possible Death Bringer spoilers!
1. Day 1

**On the first day of Christmas my True Love gave to me… crap, that's not going to rhyme. :D**

**Enjoy, nonetheless.**

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><p>The two girls sway their hips and frolic about the brightly lit lounge room of the late Gordon Edgely. The Christmas song of theirs is almost salsa-like, and it is enticing to dance along to. So enticing, that the echo of Gordon Edgely standing in the doorway is almost drawn to dance along.<p>

"What album is this, Tanith?"

"White Christmas- Bing Crosby, why do you ask?"

The dark-haired dancing girl suddenly stops; her lips curling at the edges. "That sounds rather old. Do you think I should invite Skulduggery over? He might like to dance."

"Because it's old?"

Valkyrie nods and shrugs at the same time, resulting in a rather twitchy movement.

"And, because Skulduggery is old?"

"Precisely,"

Echo Gordon resists the urge to laugh at his niece's comment and gives in to the music, swaying his hips slightly.

The two girls find it rather unsettling as his hip would disappear through the doorframe. Nevertheless, Tanith joins in, leaving Valkyrie utterly gobsmacked.

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><p><strong>Don't even ask.<strong>

**:)**


	2. Day 2

**My Christmas tree is rather small. Not that I care; the smaller the tree the more of it can be slathered with lights and pretty things.**

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><p>She sits on the edge of her couch, absentmindedly sipping away at her once boiling cup of tea. She has recently acquired a taste for black tea. It is somewhat settling and pleasant.<p>

She sighs into her tea cup, her hot breath painting the sides with steam for a few mere milliseconds. _Pleasant should be here. _She shoves the thought away without a moment's hesitation and sips from her cup, yet again.

She frowns at the tree, for there is something missing, but she can't peg it for her life.

A few hundred years has passed and the skeleton still refuse to put up a Christmas tree with her.

A small and almost silent rapping against the door echoes. Her full red lips pull at the corners.

She sets down the tea cup on the perfectly matching saucer with a slight rattle, and then scolds herself for it. _No reason to get worked up._ She tells herself.

The door is pulled open and a rather large draught forces its way inside.

"Pleasant," She greets, admiring the skeleton detective.

"Hello, Valkyrie," He replies with joy and pulls a star from behind his back. A tree topped.

She almost smacks herself for not seeing something so obvious.

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><p><strong>I can't fathom why anyone wouldn't love black tea.<strong>


	3. Day 3

**I've been slightly missing Fletchrie ever since Death Bringer. Not that I ever really supported it, and not that this really has any Fletchrie in it.**

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><p>The pier in Haggard is unsurprisingly not at all festive. It is cold and windy, and always very wet.<p>

The current day is no different. It is cold and windy and clouded and wet. The girl standing at the end does little to stop herself from being influenced by the elements. Her hooded jacket is thin and the water seeps right to her bone.

The faint popping sound of the air being displaced behind her is music to her ears. She turns and her chocolate eyes glisten as she stares into his own.

"Fletcher," She beams, coating every syllable in pure, rich joy.

He doesn't speak; he just pulls her forward into a hug and kisses the top of her head; affectionately, but not romantically.

"Merry Christmas, Val,"

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><p><strong>What will happen when Fletcher's hair deflates from heat in Australia?...<strong>

**:) **


	4. Day 4

**Recently, I have come to realise that I subconsciously base my Christmas around loud music and pretty lights.**

**It's rather sad, now that I think about it.**

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><p>In truth, she had planned to get him a hatstand. She thought he'd be running out of places to put his hats, so a hatstand would have been perfect. And then, she thought about where he would put his hatstand. His hat room was filling up fast these days.<p>

And then, it struck her, the perfect present.

She meets the skeleton with disguise donned at the end of the Haggard pier. He isn't watching, but nor is he ignoring.

She taps him lightly on the shoulder, and as he turns, smiles. She holds out he present, practically shoving it in his face. He tilts his head in the way she knows as a smile and accepts it.

"It's not wrapped?" He states as more of a question than he meant.

"Yes, it is. It has a bow."

"It was made that way,"

"It still has a bow, Skulduggery, and a bow counts as wrapping." She says, mildly irate.

He flips it several times and inspects it closely.

"You don't like it," She decides sadly with a hint of surprise and humour.

"Nonsense, Valkyrie, it's perfect,"

"I didn't know what to get you, and a hat stand would have been suspicious and awkward to carry, and if I got you a hat, you would run out of places to put all of your new hats."

"Then, what's this?"

"One of your hats,"

Skulduggery paused momentarily and cocked his head to the side.

"Hey, at least I gave it back this time."

Skulduggery shook his head and Valkyrie laughed.

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><p><strong>Oh, the great love of Skulduggery's hat.<strong>


End file.
